


lament

by Skyuni123



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Death, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e09 Requiem, F/M, Fear, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Psychological Trauma, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Will tries to come back to himself post-Requiem.(or, what if everyone's trauma wasn't reset at the end of every episode?)





	1. three days

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stay in the same room alone with her again.

 

And he  _ hates  _ that. Hates it with every fabric of his being (barring the parts of him that are telling him to  _ run  _ **very** far away from Magnus every time he sees her).

 

It hurts, because it’s not her fault. It hurts because it’s not his either - nothing they had done in that submarine could have made this situation any better than it is. But somehow, he can’t stand the thought of being in close quarters with Magnus again.

 

The thought scares him. The thought makes him want to hide away like a child and just wait for everything to be over.

 

They’ve both  _ survived.  _ Isn’t that enough?

  
  


He sleeps fitfully for two days after they return from the submarine, only waking to force down some terrible herbal tincture that Henry  _ swears  _ will make him feel better.

 

He doesn’t. He feels worse.

 

God, they’d come so close to dying down there. If she had infected him with her blood, would they have just sunk to the ocean floor and torn each other apart? Would they have become like the mermaids, just another casualty of the Bermuda Triangle, trapped in a metal casket?

 

It makes bile rise in his throat and he forces it back, willing it away with exhausted strength.

 

He sees them in his dreams, too. The dead mermaids, the blood, the wild look in Magnus’ eyes as she leaned over him.

 

And the worst thing is that he almost liked it, too. Just for a moment. Seeing Magnus wild and unrestrained had been… good.

 

Just for a moment. 

 

That was all. He preferred it when she wasn’t trying to kill him.

  
  


Will wakes on the third day, like a surrealist parody. His throat is dry, but he’s alive. That’s more than a lot of people can say.

 

He clambers out of bed and beelines for the ensuite. The steaming hot water from the shower on his back does little to lift his mood. He feels better - more alive - less like he’s about to drown in his own lungs. He thinks he’s picked up the flu or something, probably a remnant of being stuck in the damp for so long.

 

It’s good to be warm again.

 

He sits at his desk and tries to return to the work he had been doing before they’d headed out to the Bermuda Triangle. A creature transfer, a new species of psychic spider discovered in New Zealand…

 

The words swim in front of his gaze and he finds it very hard to stay focused. 

 

He rubs his eyes.

 

No change.

 

He rubs them again.

 

Nothing. Maybe he’s just tired. He doesn’t want to leave his room, doesn’t think he  _ can  _ leave his room. The enclosed corridors of the Sanctuary with uncertainty around every corner leaves much to be desired with his current state of mind. 

 

He knows he’s spiraling, knows that this is a very bad idea. 

 

Can’t do anything about it though.

  
  


Will puts his head down onto the table and tries not let the knot in his throat manifest into actual tears. He’s not going to be like this - can’t be like this. 

 

A gentle knock on the door startles him and he hits his head on his desk lamp as he sits up. Head throbbing, he stumbles over to open the door. 

 

It’s Magnus.  _ Fuck.  _ He wonders if she notices the step back he takes away from the door. She’s holding a tray with a tea set on it and looks about as frazzled as he feels.

 

“Will. May I come in?”

He wants to say no. 


	2. after

**  
**

“Will. May I come in?”

He wants to say no but it’s her expression that stops him. She looks so  _ tired  _ and worn, more than he’s ever seen her. It’s like she  _ gets  _ it.

He can’t say no to that face. “Yeah. Leave the door open.”

She pauses at that, but doesn’t say anything, and steps inside, leaving the door wide open. Placing the tea tray down on his desk, she settles into one of his chairs. 

He sits down opposite her on his bed and eyes her warily. “What do you want, Magnus?”

She takes a moment to pour them both a cup of tea before answering. The tea is pale orange and smells faintly floral. He thinks it’s passionflower.

“I wanted to apologise.”

He sighs, wishes his head wasn’t pounding quite so much and says, “You have nothing to apologise for. The submarine wasn’t your fault.”

“The submarine might not have been my fault, but let me take some responsibility for the situation. I was distracted by other things, and should have been paying more attention to the work at hand.” She takes a sip of her tea and he notices that her hand is trembling. It’s an uncomfortable reminder of the trip. “I’m so sorry.”

“We survived.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He’s not going to panic. “It’s enough. We know not what to do next time.” 

Helen laughs, but there’s no energy to it. “We discovered a new species of Abnormal, William.”

“Yes.” How he wishes it had been under different circumstances. “Surely more of a parasite than an Abnormal though.”

“Well, you’d think.” She says, and puts her cup down. It’s clear she’s about to get into a lecture, “But there was obvious signs of consciousness in the creature and -”

“Fuck, Magnus, please, can we not get into this.” He winces at how loud his voice seems to be. It echoes in the emptiness of his room. “I really don’t want to relive what it was like down there.” 

“I understand.” She nods. “I’ll leave you then. You need rest.”

“I’ve been resting for two days.” He doesn’t want to sleep. That’s not what he needs. There’s an itch under his skin. He’s jumping at shadows, seeing things that aren’t there. This isn’t a dream. They’re back, they’re alive, and no-one is any worse from the experience.

Why can’t he believe that? “Please, Magnus… don’t go.” 

She looks up at him. “What do you want from me, William?

“I want-” He doesn’t know what he wants. He wants her to be  _ alive -  _ he wants her to be present - he never wants to see those few unbreathing seconds she had in the submarine, when he thought she wasn’t coming back and he was just going to die in a metal coffin, again. “I want- I don’t know what I want. I want to erase the last week from my mind. I want to sob until I run out of tears. I don’t know what I want, Magnus.” 

“Oh, Will.” 

“Please.” He croaks. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for - just some reassurance that his world’s not ending, that everything’s going to be alright, that she’s not going to suddenly pull out a gun and shoot him. He puts his head in his hands and tries not to cry.

“Can I touch you?” She asks, quietly.

“Uh.”  _ Yes, always yes - or at least until you tried to kill me.  _ “...Yeah.”

He feels rather than sees her move onto the bed next to him. She wraps him in her arms. “Will. My Will. I know I can’t say anything that’ll stop you seeing that  _ creature  _ in your head every time you look at me, but she wouldn’t do this. She never would.”

She’s right. Will grasps at her back and rests his forehead on her shoulder, tears streaking down his face. “I know.” 

“I can’t make this better, but I can be here. I know how it feels.”

And somehow, for now, it’s  _ enough. _

****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [twitter](http://twitter.com/skyuni123) or [tumblr](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)


End file.
